


A World of Darkness, A World of Light

by zeonchar



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Astrals are a Bitch, Chocobos, Comfort, Crystal - Freeform, Daemon!Ardyn, Daemons, Don't Give Any Fucks Ardyn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fantasy, Fuck You Ardyn, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Lucis, M/M, Pain, Painplay, Pre-Daemon!Ardyn, Shit is fucked up, Solheim, The Chosen One!, The Light It Burns!, The Trash Man, Time Manipulation, Time Travel, True King, World of Darkness, beautiful hair, bros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeonchar/pseuds/zeonchar
Summary: Before Ardyn was a cursed immortal, he was a man, a man of royalty and a great healer chosen by the Divines to bring an end to the scourge that plagued the land. But what's a journey without a couple of friends to tag along? In which Ardyn, travels the lands of Solheim, healing the people, crossing the Divines, and falling from grace, all thanks to the hands of someone close to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of theories surrounding the lore of this world, so I'm just going to go with what makes the most sense to me and what works for this story.

Rocks crumbled beneath Ardyn Lucis Caelem's feet and he started to slip down the mountain. Ardyn scrambled for a foothold and as he did, an arm reached back and caught hold of him. Ardyn looked up at the face of the Dragoon his hand was attached to. Meeting Ardyn's gaze was a man in a shiny half-helm with a stylized Chocobo beak over his nose. Small wings sprouted from his temples and sparkling blue eyes looked out of the large decorated eye-holes.

Ardyn smiled. "To my rescue, yet again Tetromo." 

Tetromo set Ardyn straight with a, "watch your footing , your highness, this place is dangerous."

The Dragoon kept climbing ahead of Ardyn. His footing was sure and agile as the tall lanky man picked over loose rocks, careful not to send any down Ardyn's way. Tetromo wore a loose leather jerkin over a breathable cotton undershirt with flared pauldrons adorning his shoulders, which glinted brightly in the sunlight. Strong metal vambraces decked his forearms, held there by fingerless gloves and leather wrappings, while lustrous segmented greaves covered Tetromo's shins and the tops of his feet, strapped over sturdy leather dragon-hide boots and loose breathable pantaloons. The crowning sight of Tetromo's magnificent ensemble was the mithril-headed, holy-imbued spear strapped across Tetromo's back. When the light hit the spear head in such a way, it would glow, often astounding and impressing the common folk. Tetromo was every bit the perfect visage of the Holy Order of Chocobo Knights, the brave protectors of the king, the magnificent city of Solheim, and the royalty of the Lucis Caelum line. 

Ardyn craned his neck and looked skyward at the two birds circling lazily overhead, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The Rock of Ravatogh was the hottest place in the kingdom and Ardyn and his companions went into it well-prepared with fire-resist enchantments and fire crests hanging around each of their necks. A cold nevertheless shiver shot through Ardyn's body as he imagined what it would be like if one of their enchantments were to fail.

"If his highness falls, he won't go very far," a voice chuckled from behind Ardyn. 

Bringing up the rear was the Berserker Dynamus. He stretched out his powerful frame and slung both arms over the shaft of his battleaxe, which lay across his broad shoulders. Dynamus' fiery red hair was pulled tight into split rows on his large head, which met at the back of his skull where they were tied and braided into individual braids. The tip of each braid was clasped by carved silver metal points, which jangled together during battle and alerted the party of his whereabouts, as if anyone could miss him. 

Ardyn threw a grateful look to Dynamus over his shoulder and the man grinned, his jawline set wide and his coffee-colored eyes squinting around the edges. Droplets of sweat glistened on the Berserker's skin from the midday sun and the rising heat of the rocks. Dynamus kept his muscled chest bare, except for leather dragon-hide pauldrons, which crossed his upper-chest above the nipples and leather dragon-hide vambraces, to protect his arms from blows. Loose breeches and breathable sandal-type shoes tied up the shin gave Dynamus the freedom to move his powerful body quickly through battle and to keep cool at the same time. As their country was dry and arid, and many of the people wore similar styles in their daily lives. 

"I, for one, would pay good coin to see Ardyn tumbling all the way down this mountain."

To Ardyn's left, climbing beside him, was the Knight Fyan, his highness' shield and quite the jerk, Ardyn thought huffily. Fyan jabbed Ardyn hard in the arm, causing him to wobble.

"Hey!" Ardyn exclaimed loudly and Fyan laughed even louder. 

The Knight threw his head back while laughing and proved quite the sight: his thick blonde mane braided down to the skull over the left side of his ear, beaded with protection charms, while the rest of the unruly strands cascaded down his back. A plackart, or half-breastplate, covered the Knight's chest with a jutting neck-guard over a light cotton sleeveless gambeson. Fyan had slung the brilliant mithril shield he always carried, emblazoned with the sigil of Solheim, over his back where its reflection followed along with them on the mountain's walls. The Knight also wore leather breeches and shin-high boots that were sturdy enough as armor, but easy to move in and well aerated. Finally, Fyan rested his hand against the dragon-bone polished pommel of his mithril sword, also imbued with holy magic. His bare arms were tanned and muscled, the light hairs across his skin shone in the sun while gold rings encircled each upper-bicep. Another fine specimen of the Holy Order of Chocobo Knights.

"If I fall, I'm taking you with me," Ardyn warned. 

"Try it." 

Fyan stuck out his tongue, which was hardly befitting a Knight and certainly was a grave offense against a member of the royal family, but the four friends were well past pretense at this point.

"Why couldn't we take the chocobos?" Dynamus groaned from behind.

"Because that poor chocobo has had enough of you," Ardyn pointed out.

"We do better on foot than attempting to maneuver by chocobo anyway," Tetromo called back. 

Why were they there, trudging up this gods-forsaken mountain again? Ardyn blanked. That's right, because legend held that this mountain was home to the Astral god of fire, Ifrit. It had been Tetromo's bright idea to seek out Ifrit's blessing and use his power against the Starscourge and as the future king, Ifrit's blessing was something only Ardyn could obtain. Somehow, Ardyn felt like this would all amount to nothing, but he agreed to go along anyway. 

"Why would Ifrit help me stop the sickness he created?" Ardyn had argued when they first plotted the adventure. 

"Maybe it wasn't his intention to create this plague," Dynamus offered up.

"Ifrit hated the other Astrals and this was his punishment to man, whom the Astrals gave their divine blessing to," Fyan stated, pointedly looking at Ardyn.

"We don't know that," Tetromo retorted.

Ardyn made a fed-up noise, silencing the arguing between the four.

"It's your choice, your highness," Tetromo said.

After a minute of mulling it over, Ardyn nodded. 

"Let's do it."

Ardyn was glad that he had his black robes enchanted with fire-protection, otherwise he knew he'd be roasting like a boar on the spit right now. 

A wind picked up in the canyon they were climbing in and whipped through, offering scant relief, but relief nonetheless. Ardyn's long hair whipped in the wind and he looked over at Fyan, wishing he had braided it, or had it close-cropped like Tetromo's hair. Fyan was always offering to give him a haircut and snapped a pair of shears at him often in a teasing manner, but Ardyn liked the way his long hair looked combed out smooth and falling over his shoulders, which then took on a purplish-red hue in the sunlight. 

And Fyan thought he was obsessed with his own hair, listen to me now. Ardyn rolled his eyes at himself.

Ardyn's black robes flapped in the wind and he could feel the refreshing air rushing through the front opening and coming out of the long loose sleeves of his attire. Ardyn also wore leather breeches and boots up to his shins, much like Fyan and the others. The black robe, which was garnished with red and turquoise stitching of the finest quality, he tucked under his belt. It fell open in the front, revealing the man wrapped in nothing but a thin cotton layer around the chest. The fire crest whipped around on the leather string and Ardyn tugged at it, hoping the thing would hold. 

Ardyn grabbed a fire-protection ring for each hand before they left.

"Aren't you overdoing it a bit?" Tetromo had asked. "I don't think you'll be swimming in lava up there."

"No, I'm not, and... you never know." Ardyn shrugged.

The four companions scaled a sheer cliff and when they reached the top, they pulled themselves over the ledge, their faces dirty and panting for air. Ardyn picked up his head to glance around.

Shit... there was lava.

"We had to have expected this," Dynamus pointed out.

Ardyn elbowed Tetromo hard in the side of his ribs and he let out an "oof" noise.

"I am NOT swimming in lava." Ardyn crossed his arms. 

"There's gotta be another way." Fyan looked around.

"Follow me," Tetromo said way too cheerily, tiptoeing over the lava flows carefully with each of his feathered steps.

"I envy you Tetro," Dynamus looked at his feet and groaned. Why did his feet have to be so godsdamned big?

Ardyn stepped over the lava flows carefully, following Tetromo, Fyan behind, and Dynamus following up, albeit rather slowly. 

"Just admit already that this is a fool's errand, Tetro," Fyan said sourly. 

"Yeah, if the prince dies, we're going to be executed for sure," Dynamus called out from a ways away. 

"This is the worst adventuring party ever," Tetromo finally said, stopping and turning around. "We all know the importance of the Starscourge. We've seen it on the people's faces in our own population and we've seen the chaos it reaps. His highness was chosen by the Divines to end this madness and I know he'll do whatever it takes to bring healing to his people. He's not complaining, now is he?"

"Well..." Ardyn began, but Tetromo shot him a look that shut him up.

Dynamus finally caught up while Fyan looked around awkwardly. 

"I know what has to be done," Ardyn said seriously. "I'm willing to lay out my life to cleanse the land. Sometimes, I just wish..." Ardyn began fiddling with his fingers. "...that the Gods had given me a bit more direction."

Tetromo and the others nodded with understanding, the weight of the situation settling over them.

"Let's continue on then, shall we?" Tetromo prompted lightly and the party continued on in silence.

"I've always wanted to cook something over lava," Dynamus began, cutting through the silence. The other three let out collective groans that ranged from, "Come on!," to "Now is really not the time!" to "Really? This is what you think of?"

"Seriously," Fyan spoke up, "What are you going to do when you meet Ifrit?" He asked Ardyn.

"I'm going to subjugate him."

The rest of the party kept climbing in silence, ever upward. Ardyn glanced over to a lava-filled pool, bubbling and bursting as steam rose and the heat created wavy lines in the air. Frankly, Ardyn didn't know what he was going to do when he met Ifrit, but he didn't tell that to the other companions. 

It was late in the afternoon when the four brothers reached the peak of Ravatogh, They stood, surveying the scenery around them, each breathing heavy and thankful to be done with the long climb.

"I don't know what I expected," Dynamus said dryly.

Ardyn walked out over dry ground and for once, Tetromo didn't try to hinder him. Ardyn stopped and spun, his arms out wide, gesturing. 

"This? This is what we came for? A dry volcano?"

Tetromo let out a sigh. Shit, this was on him, wasn't it?

Years of inactivity covered the volcano's core in dirt and soot, plugging up any chamber where Ifrit might have been. Now, all that greeted the four companions was dry ground and the cawing of hundreds of birds, circling overhead. Fyan leaned to the side, his hands on his hips and his foot crunching the bones of one of those bird's meals. 

"Bah," Fyan said, also a little disappointed as he kicked a small rodent's skull away. 

Ardyn had turned his back again to the other three as Tetromo looked on in disappointment. The companions knew to give Ardyn some space. The burden of being hailed as this "great healer" weighed on him, even if he didn't admit it and tried not to show it. Tetromo knew it; Fyan knew it; Dynamus knew it.

The tinkling of Dynamus' braids rang out in the wind and the Berserker perked his head up.

Something wasn't right.

Ardyn was walking further out now, head down and body slumped.

"Ardyn, no!" was all the Berserker was able to get out before the ground rumbled and cracked beneath the prince, the Gods' chosen healer, and their future king. 

Tetromo was out there in a flash, looking like a blur of color in motion. The ground opened up like a hungry maw and surprised, Ardyn began to fall. Tetromo was above Ardyn, just like before, and clasped Ardyn's wrist as his face went white and his golden eyes flew open wide. Sweat beaded up on Tetromo's neck and his teeth clenched from the effort of holding Ardyn's entire body weight. Below, the ground cracked further, and Tetromo saw lava spilling from the walls further below. Shaken, Ardyn saw the strain in Tetromo's eyes as he flailed his feet wildly, not realizing in his panic that he was making Tetromo's job much, much harder.

Fyan and Dynamus ran to the prince and the Dragoon as fast as they could. Dynamus planted himself in the ground and grabbed Tetromo around the waist while Fyan ran up to the edge of the pit. 

"Give me your other hand!" Fyan screamed over the sound of cracking rocks, pleading with Ardyn to reach for him.

Ardyn looked down for the first time since he fell as Tetromo strained above to hold him. Sweat from the heat and strain dripped off of Tetromo's face, past Ardyn, and into the fiery chasm. Dynamus let out a roar, yanking the two back and upward several inches. Ardyn stopped struggling as the rocks opened further below him and the glow of lava met his wide golden-hued eyes.

Ardyn looked back up.

"Let me go," he suddenly pleaded with Tetromo and released his own grip, making the two slide back down further than where Dynamus has pulled them from.

"What? Are you mad?" Tetromo exclaimed, astounded while Fyan cut in, "What? NO!"

"Let me go!" Ardyn commanded again, wriggling his wrist now, trying to free it from Tetromo's grip.

"Ardyn, no, STOP!" Fyan cried out desperately. "Stop him! Pull him up!" Fyan turned to Tetromo and then started to pull at him along with Dynamus. The two yelled out from the weight and the strain as Ardyn slipped even further.

Tetromo still hadn't answered.

"Trust me," Ardyn said, calmly now, looking carefully in Tetromo's wide blue eyes as he swayed by just a grip of the wrist.

Ardyn nodded and Tetromo let go. The sounds of screams echoed above him as he fell for what felt like eternity, down into the heart of the volcano. High above him, the faces of his friends faded from sight as the mountain slid back over the hole it created and closed him in.

Ardyn spun in mid-air and tried to observe what was happening as he fell. Lava poured forth from the walls of the chasm he fell down through into the pit where he was soon heading. The orange glow became a blur as he hit terminal velocity and spun in the air again, his fire crest barely clinging to his neck by its leather cord. 

Finally he closed his eyes and let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get the descriptions out of the way in this chapter so I don't have to spend too much time on them in the subsequent chapters, so I hoped that worked out well. I also think FF15 showed a lot of parallels between Ardyn and Noctis and I wanted to show Ardyn back in the day with his entourage, just like Noctis and the Chocobros. There's some similarities between the friends, but they're not meant to be directly related. When I think of Solheim, I'm inspired a lot by the high fantasy and magitek of the old games, like FF6. Dragoon has always been one of my favorite FF classes as well.


	2. Chapter 2

Ardyn hit the ground hard. Something had slowed his descent, like some kind of feather-fall spell. That much he knew.

When he managed to finally open his eyes, he realized he was on solid ground, and thankful for that. He had landed in an enormous cavern underneath the volcanic mountain. The chamber he landed in was gigantic, with stalactites drooping from the ceiling and a large pool of bubbling magma all around him. He had managed to fall on the one solid piece of ground in this whole subterranean area.

Ardyn remembered the fire crest and felt for it around his neck frantically. It was there, thank the Gods. But as he reached for it, he winced, a pain shooting out from his ribs. He tried to sit up, but the pain was too much and he hissed through clenched teeth. His fingers felt gingerly inside of his robe and pressed against his skin. Sure enough, his rib was broken alright.

Ardyn held his hand to his side and a glow emanated from his palm. He closed his eyes and let the power of the Divines wash over him. What good were healing powers if he couldn't use them on himself? He was starting to feel sorry he had ever agreed to this escapade in the first place.

After a minute, Ardyn felt his ribs finish stitching themselves back together and heal as good as new, so he attempted to stand, feeling a little stiff, but otherwise unharmed.

The healer twisted, surveying the enormous cavern he was in. A giant waterfall of lava covered most of his sight like a thick glowing metal sheet as it dripped slowly and steadily, sinking into the pool of magma with barely a trace. Ardyn turned his head to both sides, seeing if there were any way out; any exits; any paths from this solitary island leading to somewhere else. He considered warping for a moment, but where could he go? The hole he had fell through had sealed itself up tightly.

Ardyn realized in that instant that he was completely cut-off from any escape and he began to despair. Would Dynamus, Tetromo, and Fyan find some way to rescue him? The thought of waiting in this boiling chasm with just his fire crest and other enchantments was disturbing, to say the least.

A noise echoed throughout the cavern that made Ardyn jump. He spun around, looking for the source of the sound. Did it come from behind the lavafall?

As Ardyn stared at the sheet of drooping magma, it suddenly parted to the sides like a drawn curtain. He jumped back when he saw what was behind. Sitting on a bubbling molten rock formation, much like a throne, was the fire God Ifrit.

In the shape of a man, Ifrit was a stunning sight. His skin burned, much like the lava beneath him, over a taut, muscled, shapely frame. Ifrit had flowing dark hair, multiple large, curved horns, and eyes that pierced into Ardyn. The god shifted and gold accouterments on his arms and ankles jangled together. To top it off, a golden crown rested on Ifrit's head, denoting his divine station.

Ardyn's breath hitched and he instinctively took a step back. Ifrit rested his head against a palm rather lazily and stared at Ardyn with an amused expression. His other hand tapped the arm rest of his throne and gold nails made a clicking sound that echoed throughout the hall.

Ardyn's mouth opened, but nothing came out, so he closed it again. What had he been thinking coming here?

“Welcome, mortal, to my domain,” Ifrit called out, gesturing about him. A rich voice emanated from the god's mouth and Ardyn was struck by its silkiness, as well as the god's intensely beautiful appearance.

Ardyn felt weak in the knees and almost dropped to the ground, but he managed to keep himself upright. He needed not to show weakness in this moment.

“D-do you know who I am?” Ardyn managed to croak.

“Of course,” Ifrit's mouth curled to one side, “ You're my brothers and sister's new favorite plaything.”

Keep it together, just keep it together, Ardyn told himself.

“Did you bring me down here?”

And after a moment's pause, “I did.” Ifrit still looked amused by Ardyn, which was better than any of the alternatives.

“Then you must know of my purpose here and of what I seek,” Ardyn called back, a little bolder now.

Ifrit chuckled, the melodic sound rumbling the walls of his throne room and causing small pebbles and dirt to fall around Ardyn.

“Of what do you seek, mortal?” Ifrit leaned forward in his throne, his fiery eyes boring into Ardyn, who felt very small.

“I am royalty of the Lucis line and I have come to seek your divine favor.” Ardyn inclined his head toward the god while putting a hand over his chest.

Ifrit twisted his head, lips pursed, still amused by the small man, as a human would be of an insect it was studying.

“Yes, I am aware of your insignificant human royalty.”

Ardyn's hand clasped his robe and he twitched, keeping his head down and daring not to look Ifrit in the eyes. This did not seem to be going well.

“What of your plans, Ardyn of the Lucii?” Ifrit studied him now, with intense dedication.

Ardyn looked back up, face drawn tight and a sudden zeal in his eyes.

“I seek to end the scourge upon man!”

Ifrit threw back his head and laughed loudly, his voice booming out. The walls began to crack and rumble as a stalactite or two fell from the ceiling into the pool of lava with a large crash. Ardyn stumbled, trying to keep on his feet.

Ifrit's laughing stopped and he looked back at his guest, who was wobbling around on his feet and breathing heavily with some excitement.

“What makes you think I care for your world and for your mortal kin?” Ifrit asked with amusement still in his voice, but now with a touch of added malice as well.

Ardyn didn't have a good answer for Ifrit. Hell, he never even thought he would be in this position, despite agreeing to such a task.

“As the chosen savior of Lucis, I command you!” Ardyn pointed his finger at the Astral.

Oh shit... had he really said that? Ardyn swallowed hard, sweat dripping from his brow.

Ifrit's eyes burned brighter as he sat forward sharply in his throne.

“YOU command ME?” A snarl rose from Ifrit's throat and the Infernian bared his teeth, displaying sharp canines.

A wave of calm overtook him and Ifrit leaned back in his chair again, a look of composure regaining across his twisted face.

“Let's say I do decide to help you, I want something from you in return.” Ifrit's voice was calm again, but also calculated.

Ardyn's fist clenched. He had come this far... Ifrit was the last piece of the puzzle, the one Divine who had not given him his blessing. Ardyn didn't know if Ifrit would allow him to leave this mountain alive if he did not agree.

“What does the fire god ask of me?”

Ifrit rose to his full height and even then his horns never got close to touching the ceiling of this enormous cave. Standing, Ifrit looked even more magnificent than before and Ardyn felt himself swallowing hard, involuntarily.

Ifrit stepped forward and dipped a toe in the lava. His foot arched as he placed it in the pool, then the other foot. Silently, Ifrit casually slipped below the surface as he propelled himself toward Ardyn. The bubbling lava never showed signs of disturbance as the infernian melted into it.

Ardyn looked around frantically, never taking his eyes off of the bubbling surface. What was happening? He felt the sweat clinging to his body and dripping down his back as he wiped his forehead nervously.

A man-sized shape rose from the lava pool in front of Ardyn, lava clinging to its body. One thing was unmistakable—those horns. The lava fell away as Ifrit stepped from the pool and onto dry land. Ifrit's skin was no longer the color of fire, but mimicked Ardyn's own, except for an unusual luster.

Ifrit glided toward Ardyn as if his feet never touched ground. His rich, silky dark hair hung from the sides on his head, fell over his shoulders, and cascaded down the muscled back as Ifrit circled Ardyn.

Ardyn wanted to shrink, but kept himself upright instead. He followed Ifrit with his eyes, unsure of how to Astral would react.

“I can see why the other gods picked you.”

Ardyn wanted to remain calm, but the Infernian was circling him, as a predator would a meal.

“Shiva in particular has a fondness for... your type.” Each word from Ifrit's mouth seemed calculated and well-placed.

Again, Ardyn was at a loss. The scrutiny on him became palpable.

Ardyn blinked and the deity was gone. He spun, only to find Ifrit in front of him and reaching out to grab Ardyn by the face. Ifrit's claws scraped across each cheek and at his touch, Ardyn's skin began to singe. The healer's eyes went wide as Ifrit pulled his face in closer.

“Oh, what's this?” Ifrit asked no one in particular.

Ardyn remained silent as Ifrit let go of his face and then laughed again in that rich, silky voice of his.

“The gods really did a number on you.” Ifrit turned his back on Ardyn and strolled out to a more comfortable distance. Ardyn readjusted himself and put a hand to his face, feeling the raw lines where Ifrit's claws had dug in.

“You want my power?” Ifrit asked Ardyn in a way that wasn't entirely sincere.

Ardyn hesitated but nodded.

“Is that a yes?” Ifrit cocked his head toward Ardyn.

Ardyn shifted and took a deep breath before answering, “Yes.”

Ifrit smiled wide with sharp teeth and eyes blazing fire. The golden rings on Ifrit's wrist jangled as his hand shot out and his claws ripped through Ardyn's robe, shredding it from his body completely.

Ardyn stood there looking stunned.

“W-What? What's going on?”

Ifrit's hand shot out again, ripping away the under-layers of Ardyn's garments. This time, Ardyn summoned a glaive from out of thin air and Ifrit's next slash met cold hard metal. Sparks flew as claws met the holy weapon and Ardyn looked hard at Ifrit, who was still smiling.

Ifrit slashed with his left hand and Ardyn blocked again, stepping back and taking up a low stance. Ifrit came on again, but this time moved at double the speed. Ardyn could blink, but there was nowhere to go.

Ifrit grabbed him by each of the wrists and slammed Ardyn to the ground as the glaive disappeared like dust in the wind. The Astral's hands sprouted into fire and as the flames burned Ardyn, he screamed. Both fire-protection rings on each of Ardyn's hands shattered and he squirmed wildly under the heat as his skin blistered.

“Struggle all you want, little mortal! You shall only make this harder on yourself!” Ifrit laughed, and Ardyn, finding himself between a rock and a hot place, went still, lungs panting and gasping for air.

“You wanted my power, didn't you, blood of Lucis?” Ifrit asked roughly, pointedly.

“Y-yes,” Ardyn relented, still squirming uncomfortably under the heat.

“We made a bargain, a deal, didn't we?” Ifrit asked, voice rising.

“Y-yes,” Ardyn winced again under the heat.

“You'll have my blessing then, but only when I take what I want from you.” Ifrit's eyes were hungry with a new kind of fire.

Ardyn's face burned as Ifrit shredded Ardyn's pants and boots, leaving Ardyn with nothing but the fire crest around his neck and a sweating, dripping, naked body. Ardyn supposed he could be in a worse situation, Ifrit could have easily killed him.

He looked on, surprised as Ifrit's “pants” magically shifted away to reveal a large, swollen, dripping cock. Ifrit flicked a forked tongue out of his mouth.

Is this really happening? Ardyn felt dizzy as he kept himself propped up on his own shredded clothes. That thing is huge and shit... Ifrit is... actually really sexy.

“You seem to be getting a little hot,” Ifrit chuckled as he reached out a claw and scraped it across the fire crest, which sparked and made Ardyn start to hyperventilate.

Ifrit's claw drifted down from the fire crest across the mortal prince's body until it reached his nether regions. “...And a little hard,” Ifrit continued, noticing Ardyn's now extremely erect member.

Ifrit chortled and ran the other hand down Ardyn's body, which left the sweat on him bubbling and sizzling. The heat felt like a million little sparks that shocked Ardyn's skin and added to his now growing desire.

Ifrit leaned over Ardyn and flicked his forked tongue out again, tracing it across Ardyn's lips and this elicited an excited moan from Ardyn that was mixed with both pleasure and pain.

“Do you like that, little mortal?” Ifrit asked and scraped a claw against Ardyn's hard nipple. Ardyn wriggled and stifled an even louder moan.

“No one can hear us down here, I promise,” the fire god chuckled.

Shit, shit, shit! Ardyn actually wanted the fire god to fuck him and fuck him soon. What was being done to him? Why was he so turned on? Had Ifrit done something to him? Used some kind of magic?

Ifrit's brought his lips to rest on Ardyn's nipple and sucked at the hard nub. Ardyn arched his body to meet the fire god's scalding, wet caress. "Oh fuck..." Ardyn let out breathlessly and Ifrit responded by nipping his sharp incisors against the taut nipple, drawing blood. Ardyn winced as Ifrit smiled fiendishly. The infernian's forked tongue shot out of his mouth and began to lap at the bead of crimson liquid. "Oh, gods!" Ardyn exhaled, writhing. This felt really fucking amazing--the pleasure mixed with pain. Ardyn didn't think he had ever been this excited before, or this hard. Ifrit meticulously drifted lower, his forked tongue running across Ardyn's hard abs, and swirling in and out of his belly-button. Ardyn moaned louder, the fire god's tongue burning across his skin and Ifrit went lower, swirling his forked-tongue over the tip of Ardyn's ready to burst cock. Ardyn's eyes went wide as his pre-cum sizzled on the tip of Ifrit's tongue. Each of the god's touches or licks sent a shock through his body. How much more could he take?

“You mortals are such a delight,” Ifrit sighed. “So easy to break.”

Ardyn let his head fall back. Ifrit was entirely too unpredictable. He still wasn't sure what the deity would do to him.

Ifrit let out a hearty laugh. “How do you think my brothers and sisters would feel if I broke their favorite toy?”

Ardyn felt the low level of concern that had been running through his chest suddenly spike.

“You might be too pretty to break,” Ifrit continued, swishing his tongue across Ardyn's cock. “Your powers might end up coming in handy, as well.”

Ardyn choked out more moans. Should he be glad for what Ifrit was saying? Shit, he was scared and really, really turned on.

Ifrit took Ardyn roughly by the hips and spun him around, shoving his face down into his shredded clothes and leaving his ass in the air.

This is it. Ardyn bit his hand as he felt the pre-cum dripping from his cock onto the ground.

“You're ready, I see.” Ifrit raked a hand across Ardyn's back, leaving another swollen trail filled with blood, sweat, and moans. “But not yet.”

Ifrit parted him and then ran that heated tongue over Ardyn's puckered flesh. The prince jolted from the intense pleasure.

“P-please,” Ardyn begged.

“Oh? Listen to the prince grovel.” Clearly Ifrit thought this was quite the novel idea.

Ifrit's tongue drilled itself into the cavity between both ass-cheeks and this time Ardyn screamed.

“That's it,” Ifrit crooned, with a bit of hoarseness in his voice as he pulled his tongue out.

Ardyn whimpered and Ifrit dove right in again depositing thick ropes of saliva with his tongue's lavish ministrations. Ardyn floundered fiercely, but Ifrit held him steady with a firm grip on each hip.

Ifrit pulled his tongue out again and asked, “Is his highness ready?”

A muffled and whimpering Ardyn replied with something that sounded like a, "Yes."

Ifrit reclined himself against the ground and to Ardyn's surprised, he spun the human and pulled Ardyn down on top of him. He drove the healer down onto him while impaling upward with his dick until Ifrit buried himself in one thrust. Ardyn arched his back and gasped as fire filled his core.

The feeling of Ifrit's cock inside of Ardyn was too much for him to handle. It burned Ardyn from the inside as Ifrit picked the man up easily and moved him up and down on top of his enormous, swollen member. Ardyn felt like he was being split open, but at the same time it felt so fucking good.

Ifrit grabbed the fire crest around Ardyn's neck and pulled the cord, twisting it and choking Ardyn. The human gasped, scrambling at it with his hands for air.

“How does it feel to know this thin leather string and little charm are all that stands between your life and my cock burning you up from the inside?”

Fuck... Ardyn was crazy turned on. His head swam from the lack of air as Ifrit kept stroking inside of him. If this continued, he was going to cum soon, and he hadn't even touched himself!

At the same time, being dominated by the deity was a feeling he never even knew he wanted. Everyone stood on him hand and foot as a member of the royal family, even his three friends deferred to him. To be so thoroughly controlled by a being that was more powerful than him was insanely intoxicating.

Ifrit wrapped a hand around around Ardyn's cock while still choking him with the fire crest in the other hand and kept bouncing Ardyn up and down on top of him like he weighed nothing.

“Oh Gods...”

“Yes?” Ifrit crooned and his cock swelled inside Ardyn.

Was it... getting bigger?

"I don't..." Ardyn gasped, "I can't... take it... anymore! FUCK ME!" 

The healer let a loud, throaty groan escape his lips and came as Ifrit milked his cock, sending a thick, white load all over the mortal's chest. Ardyn's eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness momentarily as the feeling washed over him.

“My turn,” Ifrit growled, barely giving the healer time to recover, and released his own load. Ardyn could feel a deep heat building inside of him. Fire shot up from his base and spread out to each finger and toe like electricity coursing through his body. The only thing Ardyn could compare it to was the feeling of casting a spell. But this was so much more. The fire hit Ardy's head and he felt like it was going to burst.

“What the fuck?” He choked out.

Ifrit was still letting out inhuman noises as he came over and over again, filling Ardyn up with his magic seed. Ifrit's other hand pressed against Ardyn's chest, burning the cum away that had previously covered him.

Ardyn's body shook as he was filled up to the brim with the god's essence and when it was over he lay against Ifrit gasping and trembling.

Ifrit pulled out and his seed spilled onto the ground, like a gushing geyser.

Licking his lips he addressed Ardyn, who had collapsed on the ground, “Most mortals don't live through that.”

Ardyn continued to shake as the heat washed over him again and again and when he finally had the strength, he sat up, hair matted and sweaty and looking dazed.

Ifrit bent in front of him, his “pants” magically returned.

“What was that?” The healer asked.

“You wanted my power, mortal, did you not?”

Ardyn shook his head, trying to clear the feeling, but he could still feel it welling just under his skin.

With that, Ifrit placed a gold bracelet in front of the trembling human and disappeared back into the fire.

Ardyn looked down at where his skin had been burned and saw the wounds close before his eyes, no doubt a side effect of the magic welling beneath his skin. He noticed the gold arm ring, a symbol of Ifrit's blessing and he picked it up. Unlike the god, this metal was cool to the touch and much welcome in the stifling cavern. Ardyn slipped the ring on his arm and as he did, a rumbling shook out from beneath him.

Ardyn stood and looked back at his clothes. They had been completely destroyed and he sighed as he stepped forward onto the floating disc of fire that had now appeared in front of him.

The fire disc rose toward the ceiling of the cave and Ardyn looked up to see cracks opening in the rock above him. He looked back down, but Ifrit was nowhere to be seen.

The disc rose faster and faster at a blinding speed as the way opened up above Ardyn.

On the peak of Ravatogh, the three Chocobo Knights had made camp after searching frantically for their friend. When the ground started to crack they stood and ran toward the chasm that opened in the middle of the peak. A disc of fire appeared and hovered near the ground carrying their friend Ardyn, looking none the worse for wear.

Ardyn stepped off, the disc disappeared, and the friends rushed him, yelling with joy that he had finally come back to them.

“Oh, thank the Gods, we won't be executed after all!” Dynamus breathed a sigh of relief as the others laughed.

“What happened to your clothes?” Tetromo asked suspiciously as Fyan turned a shade of crimson red.

“Oh, that,” Ardyn shrugged, “They burned off.”

“Did you at least get Ifrit's blessing?” Tetromo questioned, ever the practical.

Ardyn raised his wrist and chuckled as Dynamus shouted, “Hey, look at that!”

Fyan managed a peek over his shoulder while Tetromo laughed as Dynamus attempted to hug the naked Ardyn.

“Okay, naked man here,” Dynamus said releasing their prince. “Forgot about that, sorry.”

“I'm really glad I brought a change of clothes,” Ardyn sighed with relief.

“Can you imagine the prince riding into the next town naked, with just a chocobo?” Tetromo joked, for once.

“I'm pretty sure that would be some kind of chocobo abuse,” Dynamus scratched his head.

“Fyan, why so quiet?” Ardyn asked cheerily. Fyan turned around, still red, and smiled.

“I'm just glad you're back.”

 

As the four brothers tucked themselves into their sleeping sacks that night, everyone but Ardyn was completely exhausted, whereas Ardyn could still feel Ifrit's “gift” running through his veins. Soon enough though, Ardyn was feeling the effects of the day as a heavy sleep overtook him.

Fyan, who had laid down next to Ardyn, stirred in his torpor, while the other two companions both jerked, as if attempting to rouse themselves. A man-sized Ifrit entered the encampment easily, having cast a magical slumber upon the party from whence no mortal man would be able to wake.

Ifrit glided silently toward the companions, his feet never touching the ground, but instead levitating in the air as he went along. The astral came to a stop and hovered over the body of the slumbering Ardyn, whose chest lay bare in the warm night. He looked down upon the mortal and descended until his feet were touching the healer's skin, but transferring no weight whatsoever.

Ardyn stirred as the burning feet touched him, but he didn't wake and Ifrit lowered himself until he was in a squatting position. The god's hand ran over the fire crest again and he sneered, snatching the protection from Ardyn's neck and snapping the leather with force.

Again, the companions stirred, as if in a bad dream, but they didn't, or couldn't, rise. Ardyn shivered a bit as he slumbered, smoke rising from where Ifrit's burning feet touched him.

The astral reached out a claw and touched Ardyn's forehead. Yes, there. There it was. The fire god could feel it.

Deep inside of Ardyn, he could feel the other god's handiwork. Ifrit closed his eyes and was sucked into the darkness where a faint chittering overtook him. He followed the noise down dark corridors and through empty streets until he was at the source.

Before him was a gigantic magical gilded cage and inside of that cage was the scourge. The daemons shrieked when they saw Ifrit and clamored over each other like monkeys at a zoo.

Ifrit circled the cage and watched as the scourge nearly ate itself alive before the astral came upon a giant, glowing lock. He leaned in closer to take a look at the keyhole as the daemons pressed themselves to the other side of the cage, screaming and hollering as they clamored on top of each other just to be away of the fire god.

Ifrit recognized the cage and attached lock as being crafted by the divines and it was only by the hand of a divine, that the lock could be undone.

A malicious grin spread wide across the fire gods face.

Ardyn gasped and awoke to his three sleeping friends and an empty camp.

 

Ardyn Izunia sat draped across the throne of Lucis, one leg over the side of the armrest and his hat pulled low on his face. He wasn't sleeping, he didn't need to sleep, in fact, he didn't even need to rest. He had, truly, nothing better to do. You would be surprised at how much you can get done in thousands of years of life. Nothing seemed new anymore, nothing was novel, he had done it all.

Thick ashes blanketed the the sky outside, which he could see from his throne through the crumbled wall on his right. The night was black, not a star in the sky--actually, it was perpetually night now. It had descended upon him like it had everyone else and he felt... nothing as life winked out all around him and once healthy, living humans were turned to monsters.

He kept the generators going and the lights on in the palace and other parts of the city, for some reason. He didn't need them, as he had perfect vision in the dark, but it just didn't seem right to turn them off. Maybe it was a defect of his, or maybe it was just one of the odd quirks he had picked up in the last thousand years or so years, but it certainly wasn't for sentimental reasons.

He could feel the daemons milling about outside in the city. They were aimless and without purpose now that the humans had gone. They paid Ardyn no mind and in fact, even tried to stay away from him. They were afraid of him. Fear was one of the only emotions they felt, along with other base emotions like anger, hate, and lust.

Summoning daemons was quite easy if Ardyn wished it, he could call them from far away, or with a snap of the finger they could be summoned from the source. When Ardyn got bored enough, he tried playing little games with them. He carved them open to see what was inside, or chopped legs off to see if they could still maneuver. He even was slightly amused by pitting daemon against daemon for a while there..

He had abandoned trying to talk to them long ago. The lesser demons were the worst to try to communicate with as they acted on base instinct alone. Some of the greater demons had a little more thought to them, but they were also rather droll. It was truly rare to find a demon who was of a great mind, like he, cunning, sly, meticulous, and so on. When he did end up finding those of the arch-demon variety, he ate them.

He could feel them rattling around inside of him, chittering at the edges of his mind, screaming things at him, trying to guide him with their will, pouring forth their desires for blood and malice into him. Why, it would be enough to make a person go mad, if one such as him could go insane.

In fact, the waiting would be enough to drive one mad, but he had waited so long already, what was 10 years, but a drop in the bucket? So he sat, and planned, and lost himself to his thoughts, replaying his scenes of vengeance over and over again in his head. The daemons loved it when he did this, they worked themselves up into a frenzy until Ardyn himself was almost drooling like one of those slobbering lesser-demons. Keeping them all in check was ever the balancing act and he hadn't lost control in over a millennia.

In those first years since the darkness fell, Ardyn made himself busy by going about and inserting himself into local populations here and there. He received a sick pleasure in orchestrating man's fall, placing each piece so perfectly until he could reach out and touch it and everything would topple. For that was all he felt these days, a twisted pleasure, and little else but a blunted dullness deep inside of him.

Now he waited for that bloody True King Noctis to come so he could see the plan through. That insufferable brat reminded him of someone, but who?

A voice rang out in the throne room as the fire god Ifrit stood in human form at the base of the steps ascending the throne.

“You have summoned me here, immortal. Why?”

Ardyn tipped his hat up and looked one golden eye over at Ifrit.

“It's time.”

The two immortals beings remained motionless until Ifrit finally spoke again, “You were a lot more interesting when you were still a mortal.”

Ardyn sneered at Ifrit, “Oh, and why is that?”

“I recall with fondness the times that you called me, begging for me to take you so you could receive my power. You were a lot stupider then and more naive. Now you're just boring.”

Ardyn let out an annoyed sound and swung his foot back around to be planted on the ground so he could face Ifrit fully.

“This was your idea too,” Ardyn reminded the Astral.

“That it was.”

Ifrit stared hard back at Ardyn, his eyes burning.

“The True King comes for you, bent on reclaiming his throne,” Ifrit continued. “What will you do Ardyn Lucis Caelum?”

Ardyn's lips pressed together in annoyance. Ifrit really knew how to push his buttons.

Suddenly Ifrit's mouth turned into a sly smile, “What do you say, for old time's sake? You're going to need all the power you can get.”

Ardyn's lips also curled up at the edges and then suddenly he was gone.

Ifrit spun and Ardyn was behind him, eyes as black as the horrible night that had befallen man, golden-yellow pupils staring at him from the depths of those wells, and black goo leaking from his eyes, nose, and mouth. The most jarring aspect of Ardyn's visage was the terrible rictus grin that was spread across his face.

Ardyn's hands shot out faster than Ifrit could react and grabbed him by the horns, his face pressing close. Ardyn then forced Ifrit to his knees as the god looked back, surprise and shock overcoming his features.

“Why not? For old times' sake,” Ardyn drawled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter inspired by this fanart from kur0sakura - http://kur0sakura.tumblr.com/post/156671547669

“Hey little guy.”

_“Kweh!”_

“Kweh?”

_“Kweh!”_

Ardyn squatted over the small, fat black chocobo as it sqwaked at him and flapped its tiny wings. Ardyn poked it gently with a finger and it pecked at him lightly.

“So fierce!” Ardyn laughed.

The mother chocobo cooed softly at him from the stall as she overlooked the human and her hatchling. The other chicks in the litter ran around the fenced-in yard, peeping and pecking at the dirt and grass. The mother chocobo's offspring had turned out all yellow, except for this one chick who was affectionately dubbed, “the black sheep.”

“You've made a friend,” a voice said from behind Ardyn.

The healer turned his head to find Fyan leaning against the building, giving him and the chick a warm smile.

The companions had traveled from Ravatogh to a farmhouse in the country, which had petitioned the king for aide. As the scourge spread across the land, more and more people became sick. Ardyn, gifted by the gods with the ability to heal the scourge, became indispensable and well-liked by all in the kingdom immediately. His ascension from noble prince to healer and chosen one of the gods was witnessed by all and he was loved dearly for it, earning the titles of savior and “the Oracle prince.”

“Who needs friends when I've got you?” Ardyn stood, facing the shield as he turned red.

Ardyn burst into laughter and moved toward his friend, slapping him friend on the arm.

“Lighten up! I'm only kidding.”

“Oh...” Fyan sounded unsure.

Ardyn saw that his friend was uncomfortable and decided to change the subject.

“How is she doing?”

“Stable, but not well. I think you should go to her now.”

Ardyn nodded and putting on a solemn expression, walked into the main house, with Fyan trailing behind him. He opened the door and saw Tetromo and Dynamus sitting at a long table and eating some stew with bread and butter. The farmer sat with the two and conversed quietly as they ate. Upon seeing the prince, he shot up from the table, his bench scraping backward with an audible noise.

“Oh, your highness!”

The farmer put a hand over his chest, with the other behind his back and bowed.

“Please, will you join us for supper?” The farmer implored.

“Thank you, but not yet. I'd like to see your wife first.”

“O-of course!” The farmer exclaimed, looking ashamed of his offer in the face of such great personal tragedy.

The prince trailed the farmer as he led Ardyn into the living room where space had been cleared in front of the fire place for the sick woman. She looked pale and unwell, her eyes glazed over and hair stringy and brittle. Fyan, Dynamus, and Tetromo all followed Ardyn as he walked to the bedside of the sick woman with concern written on his face.

“This never gets old,” Fyan whispered.

“That it doesn't,” Tetromo agreed as Dynamus nodded.

The farmer shuffled worriedly at the foot of the bed as Ardyn knelt down beside the woman, taking her hand in his. She managed to look weakly at him and affix him with her gaze. From up close he could see that her eyes has started to turn black and her veins beneath her pale skin also coursed with the same blackness. She started to cough and Ardyn grabbed the rag next to her pillow and held it to her mouth until her attack was over. When he took it away, it was stained with black goo along leaving her lips and mouth area also sullied.

This was the work of the parasite undoubtedly, Ardyn thought.

Behind Ardyn, the farmer raised a handkerchief to his face and wiped away tears.

“Is she too far gone?” He asked, trembling.

Ardyn turned to look at him and noticed that behind him and up the stairs were two small children who looked terrified for their mother.

“No,” Ardyn answered looking back at the farmer as he choked back a sob of relief.

Ardyn turned back to the woman and put a hand on her cheek, cradling her face in his his hand so that she appeared small. He then moved his hand to her forehead and closed his eyes. The farmer, the companions, and the children all waited on baited breath for some moments as the prince and the farmer's wife sat there motionless, breathing in unison.

It started as a small light in the palm of the prince's hand, which could be seen as a warm glow through his skin. The light started to get brighter in his palm and the woman gasped. The farmer started to step forward, but Dynamus was there to stop him with a hand on the shoulder and a shake of the head.

Tetromo appeared beside the woman's bed as the light got even brighter and the woman started to squirm. The Dragoon held her by the shoulders, ensuring that Ardyn wouldn't get hurt by her in the process.

Fyan stepped up beside the prince, looking over at him worriedly as the woman's mouth opened and she started to choke.

The farmer pressed forward shouting, “No! You're killing her!”

Dynamus wrapped his arms around the farmer, who was no small man himself, keeping him from interrupting the healing.

At the sound of their father's voice, the children started to scream and cry. The sound of their footsteps echoed behind them as they ran the other way down the hallway into their bedrooms, slamming their doors behind them. Their muffled sobs could be heard coming from upstairs as their mother continued to choke and gag.

The sound of her noise became apparent soon enough as thick black goo oozed from her mouth, nose, and eyes and was drawn to the healing light in Ardyn's hand. It then crawled up the healer's outstretched arm, like an alien life-form and wriggled its way up toward his head.

Fyan watched with wide eyes, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezing as the goo started to inch its way into Ardyn's mouth.

The woman stopped struggling as the last of the sludge left her and she collapsed into the comfort of the bed as Tetromo released his grip.

Ardyn twitched as the black goo entered him, the light from his hand never faltering. The last traces of goo infiltrated his body and disappeared from sight and only then did the light slowly fade from his hand.

Ardyn opened his eyes and stood up quite suddenly to look at the farmer. He nodded in the farmer's direction and the man heaved, “Oh Gods!” and ran over to his wife's side. The farmer took her hand frantically as he called out her name, tears streaming from his face. She opened her eyes, which were now blue and sparkling and smiled at her husband.

“Thank the Gods!” The husband cried and kissed his wife's hand. He looked up at Ardyn and sincerely said to him, “Thank you highness! Thank you!”

Fyan looked over at Ardyn, worried for him, but he looked fine and as he inclined his head to the farmer.

After much rejoicing, the children ran down to see their mother, who was looking much better by the minute. The farmer turned to address Ardyn and asked him, “Will you stay for supper, your highness?”

“Yes, I'm quite famished,” the healer replied.

 

Later that night after dinner, Fyan found Ardyn outside again. The healer was talking to the chocobo mother now, leaning in close, whispering to her and stroking her head and beak lightly while he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on her smooth feathers.

Night in the country was beautiful. Gone were the noises of the city, replaced by crickets and wind blowing through the grass and trees. Ardyn had come out there to be alone and think, taking in the events of the last couple of days. Everything had been a whirlwind and he welcomed the sudden quiet and comfort of being alone.

A tired Ardyn looked up to see Fyan, who had come to find him.

“It's a nice evening,” Ardyn said quietly to Fyan as he looked over at the knight. Ardyn's hands still caressed the chocobo, who now nuzzled her beak into him.

“It is,” Fyan said back quietly, as he approached. “Everything alright?”

“Just... a bit of a headache,” Ardyn said, putting a hand to his own forehead.

That's never happened before, Fyan thought a little worried, but decided he was overreacting.

Ardyn turned back to look at the chocobo, as Fyan put a hand on the chocobo's other cheek, rubbing it with the thumb of his left hand.

They stood quietly there for a minute until Fyan spoke, “What you did in there was amazing.”

Ardyn didn't look up. He wasn't big on ceremony, nor was he the type of person who lapped up praise and admiration. Fyan knew Ardyn did what he did because of his genuine heart and his compassion for other people. If Ardyn could get away with it, he would have cured the scourge anonymously. Ardyn's desire for anonymity was not out of shyness, but out of genuine humbleness.

“I mean that,” Fyan continued. “You're amazing.”

Ardyn looked up from the chocobo at his friend. The moonlight hit the healer's eyes just right and Fyan, heart beating faster, stepped in and kissed the prince.

Ardyn closed his eyes and fell into the kiss and the two stood like that while the chocobo cooed between them.

The door to the farmhouse suddenly burst opened and they both pulled away quickly. Dynamus came stumbling out, sounding a little drunk off of the farmer's ale.

“Hey, you two! Stop canoodling with the chocobo and come in already!”

Ardyn was sure that Dynamus hadn't seen them, yet his face burned at how close Dynamus' jab had been. Fyan shuffled away quickly, not looking back and Ardyn felt confusion. The knight brushed past the hiccuping berserker and entered the farmhouse quickly while Ardyn shuffled forward stodgily.

“I hate you, Dyno,” Ardyn said to his friend, who thought it was the most hilarious thing in the world. Ardyn scowled and stuck out his tongue before going back inside.

 

After a good night's sleep, the friends awoke to a magnificent breakfast of chocobo egg omelets, tomatoes, sausage, bread, and cheese. The farmer's wife was up and cooking for them, amazingly, considering how she looked the day before. The companions were much surprised at how well she had recovered, all except for Ardyn, who weathered the storm of thank-yous he kept getting from the farmer, his wife, and the two children.

As the companions readied to leave by saddling up their chocobos, the farmer rushed out and shoved a little bundle into Ardyn's arm. He looked down and out popped a tiny beak and two big eyes.

“I saw you looking at him yesterday, so I want you to have him as thanks for what you did for us.”

“But I can't accept this, this chick is rare! It could be worth a lot of money to you and your family.”

“My wife's life is worth any price,” the farmer said, closing his hand over the bundle and keeping it Ardyn's arms.

Ardyn nodded and tucked the chocobo away in the pocket of the lining of his robe where it _kweh'd_ a couple of times before settling down.

“You're going to make a great king,” the farmer said to Ardyn as the brothers rode off down the road.

 

Upon returning to Sol, the capital of Solheim, the companions immediately noticed something was off as bells tolled throughout the city and black banners hung from the buildings. The general populace looked more somber as they greeted the companions with reverence.

Ardyn knew something was wrong and set off quickly on his chocobo in a dash to the palace.

Seeing the prince, the guards immediately let Ardyn and the companions in. Ardyn raced inside and ran all the way to the throne room.

Please be alive, please be alive, he repeated to himself all the way from the gates of the city, his heart pounding in his chest.

Ardyn threw open the large doors to the throne room, only to find his brother Izunia sitting on the throne.

Izunia looked up at his brother with a smirk and said, “Ah, Ardyn, there you are. We've been waiting for you to get back from traipsing around the countryside.”

Ardyn's hands clenched at his sides as the other three companions finally caught up behind him. The healer strode into the throne room, shouting, “LEAVE,” to the court officials and advisers inside. The companions looked worried from the doors of the throne room as everyone gathered their things and rushed out as quickly as possible. The last thing they saw was Ardyn's back as the last adviser leaving closed the large doors behind him with a large slam.

Ardyn waited until the throne room was closed before speaking.

“Where is he?” the healer demanded.

“Brother, brother, calm down,” Izunia gestured with his hands, saying this entirely too casually.

“Where is our father!?” Ardyn demanded, shaking.

“I'm afraid that father died while you were off having fun with your friends.” Izunia looked uninterested in Ardyn's line of questioning.

Ardyn wanted to walk up to and smack the smug look off of Izunia's face, but he held himself, trying not to let him rage get the better of him.

Ardyn took a step back, reeling.

“How... why didn't you tell me? Send a messenger, something?”

“I know how much you enjoy your little trips with your friends and I really didn't want to spoil your fun.” Izunia glanced down at his fingernails with disinterest.

“You- you know that's not what I do!”

“Oh, isn't it?” Izunia looked up with an arched eyebrow. “I've heard tell you were busy climbing the Rock of Ravatogh! What could you possibly be doing up there but having fun? Nobody lives up there!”

Ardyn was furious, but kept silent. He wasn't about to spill his secrets to his conniving brother.

“See what I mean? You didn't stop to think that maybe you were needed at home?” Izunia continued to probe.

Ardyn raised a finger and pointed it at his black-haired brother. “Get down from there!”

“Why?” Izunia crossed one leg with the other casually. “I was taking care of business while you were gone, making all the preparations, continuing father's legacy!”

“That throne doesn't belong to you!” Ardyn's voice rang out, strong a forceful.

Izunia huffed like a spoiled child before standing up and shrugging.

“You know, father was so disappointed when you left,” Izunia taunted as he strolled down the steps, “he said to me, 'Why does my other son always leave me? Why does he put others in the kingdom before his own family? It was a comfort for him to know at least one son was by his side when he passed, I imagine.'”

Ardyn listened to Izunia's speech with increasing rage. His mind whirled as he heard what his brother was saying to him and as he considered what had happened. He still didn't believe it. He was in shock. Should he have been there? Ardyn started to doubt himself. Was he being selfish? Did he really put others' needs before his family? Should he have never left at all? Was father's last thought to be disappointed in him?

“How did father die?” Ardyn asked Izunia, a little deflated, shoulders slumping.

“The healers tell me father was sick with the scourge all along. Who knew? One so strong such as him? He never showed any signs. I guess you never really know ails a person on the inside.”

Izunia finished descending the steps and reached his brother, studying him.

“Did... did he ask for me?” Ardyn asked sadly.

“Oh dear...” Izunia began, as if thinking. “I'm afraid not.”

“Why? Why did he not tell me if he knew I could help him?”

“Father knew how much you cared about helping the common people. It's likely that he didn't want to interfere with what you truly considered important.”

Ardyn put his hands to his face, holding back tears and his grief. Finally he looked back up and said, “Where's the body? I want to see him.”

“Oh, no, that won't be possible.”

“Why not?”

“Our dear father turned daemon and had to be put down.”

With that, Izunia patted his brother's shoulder in a consoling way and strolled out of the throne room, whistling a tune.

Ardyn's face went white with shock as he stood there, tears blurring his vision.

_Kweeeeeeeh_

A muffled noise came from Ardyn's robe and he sunk to his knees, holding the bundle tight in his arms.


	4. Chapter 4

Ardyn Izuna lay on the ground, the ashes from the endless night falling on him like snow.

This was the end. Finally, he would get what he had waited so long for.

Noctis Lucis Caelum knelt over him. There was no hate in his eyes now, only sadness.

Even after killing your beloved? Noct, you're a better man than I. In fact, Ardyn thought, he was the king I should have been.

“You can rest in peace,” Noctis whispered to him.

Ardyn wondered what death would be like, not the faux-death he experienced so many times, but real, true death.

He closed his eyes and his body faded away into nothingness.

The king stood and faced his three friends, who had made their way back down from the throne room and stood watching his last exchange with Ardyn on the steps. With Ardyn gone, the demons inside the city started to go into a rampage as they all converged on the palace square and Noctis knew he would have little time. 

Bidding farewell to his friends for the last time, the king took the long ride in the elevator back up to the throne room. As he swung open the doors, meeting him was not the empty chamber he had expected, but none other than Gentiana, Shiva's human form.

“Gentiana?” He wondered aloud. He hadn't really had time to process her reveal to him on the train ride over to Gralea, but he had been thankful for her aid. 

“What are you doing here?” Noctis asked her, striding towards here.

“I am here to stop you,” she said in a calm voice.

“What?” Noctis was stunned. “No!”

“It's not what you think,” she remained calm.

“Gentiana, I have to do this,” Noctis pressed, as if not wanting to hear her out. “Besides, how do I know it's really you?” Ardyn had used shape changing powers on the train, so this wasn't something Noctis would put past him. However, Noctis had relied on the astrals to keep Ardyn's soul in the ethereal plane long enough to finish him off. So he wouldn't be back this soon.

“I've seen all possible realities that this world can take. I've seen your deaths a thousand times over, from the beginning of time to the end. This is one reality that is going to be different.”

Gentiana's closed eyes always bothered him and as they stood there, he felt as thought she could see right through him, which made sense, considering her astral lineage. 

“This is a chance for you to save Ardyn's life.”

“What makes you think I want to spare his life?” Noctis was astounded and angry.

“Not just his, but yours too.”

Gentiana had a point.

“This is the only way,” Noctis said, turning his face from her.

“No, you only think this is the only way. Such are the constraints of your human nature. I am telling you there is another.”

Gentiana walked forward and took Noctis' face in her hands and turned it to look at her. Surprisingly, her palms were warm to the touch.

“I rarely intervene in human affairs, but the gods have already had a heavy hand in both your and Ardyn's destinies.”

Gentiana stroked Noctis' cheeks with each of her thumbs and smiled at the king as her hands shone brightly. 

Noctis' eyes went wide and he opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly he was falling backward away from Gentiana. The floor gave way to the roiling ether and he was gone.

 

Ardyn Lucis Caelum fixed the silver and emerald clasp at his neck, affixing the decorative shawl at his neck over the black dress robes. 

“Ready yet, your highness?” Fyan asked him from the door to the royal chambers.

Ardyn sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which shone with a purplish-red hue under the sunlight that came through the windows. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess. The healer was sure he hadn't slept at all in the two days since returning home and now he was to attend his father's funeral and his own coronation. He wasn't entirely sure he could manage both.

“Ready as I'll ever be,” Ardyn mumbled and turned to follow his shield out of the room.

His father's funeral was a somber affair as the two brothers bowed and placed wreaths at the foot of the sealed stone monument. Ardyn's brother Izunia, also dressed in finery, didn't seem upset by the turn of events. The coronation was less so, but Ardyn hadn't felt much joy in his heart over the whole affair. He knew this would happen someday, being the next in line for succession and he had told himself he was prepared, but mentally, he knew he wasn't. Izunia's words still ate at him as he ran over every line again and again in his head. In his heart, he blamed himself. If his powers couldn't even be used to save his own father, what good were they? 

As the crown was placed on Ardyn's head, Izunia scowled at him from the sidelines. The people themselves seemed to be rather ecstatic at the choice though. The beloved healer prince had turned into their beloved healer king. Flowers were thrown at Ardyn's feet as he addressed the crowd and the throngs pushed at him, held back only by the soldiers of the chocobo knights. 

At the denouement of the ceremony, mages dressed in red and black sent fireworks into the sky, titillating the crowd and exciting the children. Ardyn took a glass of wine and mingled with the crowd of guests invited by the royal family in their gardens. He tried to entertain guests, but his mind kept wandering to the image of his father become a daemon. 

Tetromo found Ardyn in the crowd an approached him, armor sparkling and shiny. He had been put on official duty that day for the coronation as one of the soldiers attached to the king's guard.

Tetromo snapped a fist to his chest and bowed saying, “Congratulations your... majesty.”

Ardyn knew that especially in front of all the people that Tetromo would behave super-formal, so he thanked the dragoon and asked him to rise.

Fyan came up behind the king and put a hand to his ear, whispering, “Come with me.”

“If you'll excuse me,” Ardyn directed to the group of people in front of him, “there are some matters I must attend to.”

Ardyn turned and followed Fyan, with Tetromo following close behind. The two men walked through the halls of the silent palace, all activity taking place in the kitchens and gardens outside.

“Down here,” Fyan said slyly, gesturing at Ardyn to follow him down the stairs.

When they got to a door at the bottom, Fyan asked him to close his eyes. Ardyn sighed and put a hand over his face. Fyan pulled him by the hand and Tetromo guided him by the shoulder from behind.

“You can look now.” 

Ardyn opened his eyes to Dynamus and the other two friends, who had led him into a basement taproom. The walls had been strung with streamers and cutouts of cute chocobos, which lined the walls. On the middle of one table was a large chocolate cake, adorned with presents and pecking around on the ground, was the black chocobo chick he had decided to name Galdan, after a bard from Eosian tales. 

Tetromo took his helmet off and sat it on the bar as he walked around to the other side to pour the four friends some frothy mugs of ale. Magitek was used to keep the ale chilled as it was used for many other things in their kingdom, from metal armor and weapons to airships and kid's toys. 

As children Ardyn's father gave him brother and him a metal chocobo that they rode around they yard for fun. They all truly lived in a gilded age, and age that brought them wonders, but also the scourge. Ardyn's eyes became misty as he remembered the first time his father had taken him by airship to see the great astral Titan holding up the meteor in the Disc of Cauthess. 

“Hey now pr- I mean King. None of that!” Dynamus said rushing over and slapping Ardyn hard on the back.

“You guys did this for me?”

“Yeah,” Fyan said. “We did.”

Ardyn looked up and smiled as Tetromo distributed the mugs. 

“Please don't make me go back to the party,” Ardyn begged.

“Don't worry, we won't!” Dynamus exclaimed between huge gulps.

“Can you believe they let this guy in here?” Fyan said gesturing to Dyanmus, making Ardyn laugh.

“You can open my present first,” Tetromo commanded, handing a book-shaped wrapped object Ardyn's way.

“Hmmm, I wonder what this could be?” Ardyn asked, shaking the package next to his ear while Tetromo looked insulted.

Ardyn pulled the string and let the cloth slip away. “Oh Finnegan's Tome!” He looked the book over excitedly. 

Finnegan was a famous alchemist, who in his time had invented many rare decoctions. Some of his most famous works were his healing potions, which everyone used these days, or a decoction made from ultra-rare materials that could bring a person back from death if used only moments after they died. 

“There are some rare recipes in there,” Tetromo pointed out.

“Tetro, how could you—how did you get your hands on this?”

“I know some people,” the dragoon winked.

“Ooh, my turn!” Dynamus perked up, having drained his mug. He went behind the bar and Ardyn was sure he was going to fill up again, but instead reached under the bar and pulled out a long, heavy object, wrapped in cloth. He set it on the bar in front of him with a thud.

Ardyn looked over with interest and walked over to the item, pulling the cloth from it. In front of him sat a magnificent blade of the finest quality. Dynamus was one of the best blacksmiths around and regularly worked the castle forge while in the city.

Ardyn was in awe and picked up the handle and held the sword out in front of him, looking it up in down. It had a strange hue to it, Ardyn realized as he looked at the blade. It shimmered in ways that seemed unnatural, but also beautiful.

“The blade is made from the metal of the meteor,” Dynamus explained. 

“Cauthess?” Ardyn looked astounded. “But the Titan... he won't let anyone near there!”

Dynamus folded his arms in front of him and winked, saying, “Oh, him, we had a deal.”

Ardyn's mouth hung open with disbelief as Dynamus continued, “I've been keeping that safe for you for a long time now. I'm glad that your day has finally come,” he paused, “even if it had to come like this.”

The blade suddenly disappeared like diamond dust in the air as Ardyn added it to his armiger. 

He looked over at Fyan now, who looked a bit sheepish. The other two companions also watched the knight, waiting to see what he would give. Fyan reached in his doublet and pulled out a leather pouch. He handed it to Ardyn with a, “Here.”

Ardyn unlaced it and pulled out a necklace on a black leather cord. The piece itself was the shape of a teardrop and looked like a clear crystal. When Ardyn held it up to his eye it filled with a smoky green color.

“This is amazing,” Ardyn murmured. 

“I had it enchanted by Proximo, the finest enchanter in the city,” Fyan mumbled.

Ardyn smiled and put the teardrop back in the pouch. He then addressed the four, “You really shouldn't have done this for me but, thank you dearly my friends. I will cherish these gifts.”

Tetromo raised his mug and proclaimed, “To Ardyn, our king and most importantly, our friend.”

Dynamus scrambled to fill his mug again as the four friends laughed. When he returned, they toasted and drank heartily. 

“Now, who wants some cake?” Tetromo asked.

“Oh, thank the gods I've been eyeing it this entire time,” Ardyn admitted as everyone laughed. 

 

Ardyn sat in the chambers of his new room staring into the fireplace. It felt weird to be suddenly sleeping in the room he always knew as belonging to his father. The bed was enormous, for one, and two, there were so many memories attached here.

A faint knock came at the door and Ardyn looked up and called, “Who is it?”

“It's me, Fyan, your majesty. May I enter?”

“Come in,” Ardyn said, standing up from the stool he was sitting on. 

Fyan entered, smiling, and closed the door behind him. 

“Good evening,” Ardyn said smiling. “But drop the formality, please.”

Fyan shrugged and said, “I want to show you something... with the necklace, that is.”

“Oh!” Ardyn went to the desk and pulled the pouch out. “I've been meaning to wear this.”

“Please, put it on,” Fyan prodded. 

Arden pulled the necklace out, which was now showing a smoky red color. He slipped the black cord around his neck and as the cool drop hit the skin of his chest, it began to thump.

“It's beating!” Ardyn exclaimed.

“I know,” Fyan said huskily. “The enchanter captured the essence of my heart beat and trapped it in there. When you wear the necklace, you'll always feel me close to you.”

Ardyn held a hand over the tear drop feeling it between his palm and his own heart.

“Thank you... this is the best present I've ever received,” Ardyn looked at Fyan sincerely, who looked away, face turning red. 

Ardyn looked down at the necklace, not knowing what to say.

“Your maj—Ardyn, can I sleep here? Now that you're the king, I think it's important for us to be more considerate of your security situation.”

“Yes, of course,” Ardyn said a little too quickly and Fyan sighed a bit, relieved.

Ardyn hung his robe and climbed into bed wearing loose pants and the teardrop around his neck. Fyan started to make himself comfortable at the end of the bed in front of the fireplace until Ardyn asked, “What are you doing?”

Fyan sat up and looked over at the king who stated, “This bed is gigantic, are you really going to make me sleep in this whole thing by myself while you sleep on the floor?”

Fyan grinned and replied, “I guess not.”

Fyan crawled in the other side of the bed and they turned, backs to each other, both trying to sleep, but both thinking of each other.

 

Ardyn awoke with a start in the night. The fire in the fireplace blazed high and bright. Ardyn looked over at Fyan, who was fast asleep. The king shielded his eyes from the flames, but could see a figure step out. The fire died down again and Ardyn lowered his hand to see Ifrit, standing there in all his glory in Ardyn's bedroom.

“Ah, there you are my little mortal king. So good to see you,” Ifrit said, stepping forward.

Ardyn turned his head again to look at Fyan, who was still dead asleep.

“Don't worry about him, he's fast asleep.” Ifrit chuckled in the same mischievous and deadly tone that Ardyn remembered.

Ardyn looked down at the gold metal bracelet he wore around his wrist, had Ifrit tracked him that way?

“I'm a god,” Ifrit replied, as if reading his mind, “I can find you no matter what you do or where you go.” Ardyn wasn't sure but Ifrit's promise sounded sinister.

Ifrit stalked up to the edge of the bed. He was completely naked, but this time without horns. His skin also took on a normal shade and long black hair hung from his head, but when he smiled, Ardyn could still see his sharp canines. 

Ifrit pulled back the covers to the king's bed and then looked over Ardyn, hungrily. 

Ardyn had to admit, he was partly fascinated, but also terrified.

Ifrit eased Ardyn's pants down and when he saw the king was already hard, he laughed. Ifrit's own member was already swollen and dripping, its size unusually large and grotesque. He climbed on top of the healer, who was breathing heavily. Ifrit's skin didn't burn him this time, nor did it singe the bed.

Ifrit took Ardyn around the waist and pulled him into the fire god's body. The god lavished attention upon the king's neck, sucking, kissing, and biting, even drawing blood. 

Ardyn moaned loudly, his cock pressing into Ifrit's as he bucked his hips upward eagerly. 

Next to them, Fyan slept deeply and silently, never stirring and later as the king lay sweaty and covered in his own cum and Ifrit's, after Ifrit had disappeared back into the fireplace, he wondered how he was going to explain the bite marks all over his body, or the mess.


	5. Chapter 5

Instead of traveling, the new king, Ardyn Lucis Caelum, stayed at court and saw petitioners who came to be healed. Every time he got the notion to take off to the farthest parts of the kingdom, he remembered what Izuna has said to him about his father and he became depressed. He replayed fantasies in his mind over and over again about rushing home just in time to save his father. According to those in court he spoke to, the onset of the illness came quick and killed him just as quickly. If Ardyn wasn't out traveling for months at a time then...

No. He had to stop himself. He couldn't keep up with these what-if scenarios. 

The King found the Berserker in the castle smithy, pounding away at a piece of metal on an anvil.

“What are you making?” Ardyn asked.

“Your majesty!” Dynamus grinned and wiped the sweat from his brow. The smithy always felt like it was a million degrees inside there. Ardyn shifted uncomfortably, reminded of the blazing furnace that was Ifrit's palace.

“I'm designing a new battleaxe with some of the leftover metal from the meteor.”

Ardyn walked over and picked up a chunk of the ore. It was black and shiny with chunks of brilliant blue dispersed throughout. 

Something flashed in Ardyn's mind and he dropped the ore on the ground, stumbled backward and fell against the smithy wall.

Dynamus dropped his hammer and ran over, leaning down to clutch Ardyn by the arm.

“Ardyn, are you alright?” Dynamus sounded worried.

The healer blinked a couple of times as his vision returned to normal.

“I... thought I saw something,” he said.

“What?” Dynamus asked.

“It felt...” he sucked in breath as if trying to compose his thoughts, “daemonic.”

Dynamus' brows scrunched with concerned.

“That's not good.”

Ardyn picked himself up off of the ground with Dynamus' help and brushed the dirt off.

“Maybe it's just nothing,” the King said.

Dynamus put a hand to his chin, as if thinking.

“Summon the blade I gave you,” the Berserker suggested and Ardyn shrugged but summoned it to his hand anyway.

“Anything?”

“No.”

“I suppose that's good news, but just be careful anyway.” Dynamus still looked a bit concerned. 

Ardyn let the blade go and it disappeared. “That's not why I'm here,” the King said.

“Oh?” Dynamus raised an eyebrow.

Ardyn shuffled around in his bag and finally pulled out a glowing ice-blue flask.

“What's this?”

“Drink it.”

“Ohhhhhh no. No, no, no.” Dynamus waived his arms frantically and Ardyn looked perturbed.

“Please?”

“I'm not being your test subject.”

“It's going to be really helpful, I promise.”

“But, what if it's not?”

Ardyn rolled his eyes. “It will be, I promise.”

Dynamus let out a long sigh. “Did you test it out on yourself first?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.” Ardyn looked smug as he said this. 

Dynamus grumbled and took the flask, shaking it around in front of his eye.

“What does it do?” The Berserker asked.

“Just drink it and find out.” Ardyn was starting to look annoyed. 

“Fine, fine.” Dynamus relented, popping the cork and smelling the odorless liquid. Having smelled nothing, he put it to his lips and tipped it back. He drank it all in a couple of gulps and wiped his lips.

“Well?” Dynamus asked Ardyn, “What's supposed to happen?” as he handed the flask back to the king.

Ardyn got a sly look on his face and folded his arms in front of him. 

“This better not be some sort of—Oh!”

Dynamus' face registered surprise then excitement. 

“That's some good stuff! I feel so energized, I feel fantastic!”

Dynamus ran over to the forge, grabbed his hammer and pounded on the metal, his muscles working quickly to pound it into the right shape over and over again. The amazing part was that he showed absolutely no exertion.

“I feel like I have the strength of a hundred Owlbears!”

Ardyn laughed. “See? I told you,” he ribbed.

“You were right! Soooooo right! I can get this battleaxe done in no time!” Then Dynamus dropped the hammer and ran over to Ardyn, scooping him up in a big hug. 

Ardyn's back cracked as he grunted and laughed at the same time.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Ardyn massaged his lower back and hobbled a little bit after Dynamus let up. 

Dynamus was still acting extremely hyped so Ardyn bid his farewell and stumbled out of the forge. 

 

Weeks had gone by which turned into months and finally at the one year mark the three chosen of the Chocobo Knights decided to speak to their King. They found him alone at his father's grave, staring silently at the cold marble that encased the dead royal. The three gathered reverently by his side, not saying a word, just listening to the blowing the wind, which spoke for them instead.

It had been one year to the day that the four brothers had returned home from a long trek throughout the kingdom that involved seeking the Astral's blessings along with healing the sick along the way. Home only brought devastation to one of them though and the gap between royalty and not-royalty widened. 

“Your father was a good man,” Fyan spoke up, cutting through the wind and silence.

Ardyn didn't reply, he just kept staring at the stone sarcophagus.

“We all miss him dearly,” Dynamus said reverently. “It was because of him that we three came to be in your employ.” 

Still no reply. 

“I mourn your father, as the others do, but the time has come,” Tetromo said respectfully and forcefully at the same time. If anyone acted like an older brother to the four, it was he; never pulling the punches.

Ardyn looked up with somber eyes.

“Time for what?” The King asked.

“Time for us to leave once again.” Tetromo put his hands on his hips.

Ardyn turned his head back to the stone and didn't reply.

“The plague has gone unchecked this last year, ravishing the lands. The town Elsaz on the outskirts of our kingdom has suffered the worst of it. Hundreds of people there have fallen ill to the plague. They desperately need healing, or their people will die.”

“Hmm,” came a reply from Ardyn.

The three looked at him in stunned silence, exchanging worried glances, all except Tetromo, whose face turned hard.

The Dragoon hauled the surprised king up by his robes and slammed him against the large stone monument. He hit with an 'oof' and opened his mouth to protest, only to be met with icy determination.

“I know what it's like to lose someone. We all hurt because of the loss of your father, but it has been a year now. You can't keep hiding away in the palace like this! The people out there need you and you aren't doing them any good by sitting around and moping!”

Ardyn's eyes narrowed as he pushed his friend's hands away.

“Don't touch me again,” he snarled.

“I'm not going to let this rest,” Tetromo challenged. “You're going, whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, I am?” Ardyn's face was hard and set.

“The three of us will drag you out of here in the middle of the night if we have to.”

“Leave me out of this!” Dynamus flailed his hands in the air while Fyan sighed.

Ardyn kept his gave affixed to Tetromo and said, “Be thankful that I am a merciful king.”

“Really? Or what?” Tetromo folded his arms together.

“Stop provoking him,” Dynamus pleaded with Tetromo.

Fyan stepped forward and exclaimed, “He's right, Ardyn, and you know it.”

Ardyn turned, looking a little hurt and surprised that Fyan didn't have his back.

Tetromo continued, “I've never coddled you and I'm not going to start now. The best way that you can help yourself is by helping your people. The Astrals gave you this gift for a reason. I was there when Bahamut bestowed upon you the crystal and your gift. The Gods are all counting on you to save the world from this curse.”

Ardyn looked a little deflated and sunk visibly lower.

“What if I don't want it? You three seem to think this is such a great gift, but it's not. I'm just tired.”

The three looked like they sympathized and Fyan reached a hand out to Ardyn's shoulder.

“That's your mind talking,” Tetromo responded. “I see a lot of trainees who go through something similar and I always encourage them to push through it. Remember why you accepted the gift in the first place. Remember the look of joy on your people's faces when you saved their loved-ones' lives.”

“What good is it if I can't even save my own father!?” Ardyn suddenly burst.

Tetromo shook his head and kept his mouth closed until Dynamus stepped forward.

“Then you can go out there and save someone else's father,” the Berserker suggested. 

The three Knights looked at Ardyn, waiting for his response and hoping that they did the best to convince him.

Ardyn looked defeated but replied with some resolve, “Alright, send word to the people of Elsaz that I'm coming.”


	6. Chapter 6

King Ardyn and his three companions set off on chocobo. Airship travel existed, but they were heading for a remote part of the kingdom without a port. Besides, Ardyn once loved these journeys and always stretched them out as long as possible, just to get out of the stiff, formal nature of castle life. Another reason was so that Ardyn could stop and heal anyone along the way. Word usually got around when the four companions traveled and they would meet pilgrims along their route who came in search of healing or just to touch the man that many considered godlike in their kingdom.

 

Ardyn fastened his pack to the backside of his black chocobo, now fully grown and mature. He strapped a long, wide box to the top of his pack and sleeping sack and Dynamus asked him, “What's that?”

 

Ardyn responded by opening his robe and showing Dynamus the oddly colored, glowing flasks inside.

 

Dynamus sighed and looked over at Tetromo, who was swinging his new spear in circles around him. The spearhead was fashioned by Dynamus from the very last of the meteorite ore and so now each companion wielded a weapon made from the rare ore.

 

Dynamus has his reservations about crafting any more weapons with the stuff after Ardyn's weird incident with his meteor sword, but as the year wore on, he started to give in to Tetromo and Fyan's pleas for weapons of their own.

 

Tetromo's spear whirled through the air so quickly that it looked like a blur to the rest of the party. The Dragoon was the quickest and most agile of the four surely, whereas Fyan was the best swordsman they knew. He never missed an opportunity to train both himself and with the Chocobo Knights in the barracks yard.

 

Ardyn was very intellectual, but one supposed he had to be, given his position. He always had a book in his hand and was particularly fond of rare tomes, from which he learned to cast all manner of spells. His affinity for magic had been unprecedented, probably enhanced by the crystal's own blessing, which ran through his body. Lately, he also seemed to excel at alchemy, having trained it non-stop while at home, starting with a trial and error phase, which led to Ardyn blowing things up or turning green as the others refused to try his potions after they each got sick numerous times while he “perfected” a brew.

 

The end of Tetromo's spear stabbed into the ground and the meteorite spear head glinted in front of Tetromo's face as he looked deep into the surface of the metal. When turned a certain way in the light, one could see a faint green reflection in the blade, which made the metal all that more unique.

 

Tetromo tucked the spear behind him through a loop on his back and hopped up onto the chocobo in one swift action. The four trotted for the castle gates as Izunia watched from the palace steps. He had grinned at Ardyn wehn he told Izunia of his plans to undertake another healing quest.

 

“You should go,” the black-haired Izunia told his brother. “I'll make sure the kingly duties are fulfilled while you are away.” He ended that with a sneer.

 

As the gates creaked open, throngs of people met the companions in the street. They waved banners and threw grain from the windows as they wound their way through the streets, with Ardyn's black chocobo taking the lead. Everyone had been excited to learn of a return to the way things had been. No longer was their king just a spectre who sat in the palace all day, but now he was once again the gods-chosen savior of Eos, out to cure the vile sickness and wipe evil from the lands! A king could not have been loved more by his people.

 

The entourage of Chocobo Knights rode with the companions some way out of the city and then let them go, as they were more than capable of protecting the King and each other. They traveled along the well-used main road that spanned all across the kingdom and people stopped to bow or cheer as they passed. At night they stopped at a well-known inn, the innkeeper of whom was absolutely thrilled to put up the King and his companions.

 

Ardyn and Fyan sparred swords in the yard as night fell, the metal clang audible to all in the vicinity. Ardyn, making one last push to gain on his friend, brought his sword down in an arc. Fyan sidestepped and jabbed Ardyn with the butt of his sword in the ribs and then finished off by kicking the back of his knee out. Ardyn tumbled on the ground, his sword disappearing into air as Fyan stood over him and shoved the point of his sword at Ardyn's throat.

 

Ardyn winced and closed his eyes as Fyan began to explain calmly, “You overcompensated with that swing and totally put yourself off-balance, leaving your body totally open on the sides to any competent sword-wielder, which then left your back completely unprotected.”

 

Fyan had bent down over Ardyn to explain what he did wrong and Ardyn felt his face blush red as he watched Fyan's lips move. Fyan pulled him up and Ardyn began to brush off his dirty robes.

 

“Well, if I really wanted to win, all I had to do was blast you in the face with a fireball.”

 

Fyan sighed. “That's not the point. You're good with the sword, but you could be better, so for now, you need to focus solely on mastering those abilities.”

 

“We've been training since we were kids,” Ardyn whined. “How am I still not good enough?”

 

“I've been training ever since I could hold a blade and I've taken the time out of each day to do nothing but train. You haven't had the time or luxury. Besides, I've also trained with the best swordsmen in the kingdom, learning new techniques from them. That's why you're training with me now.”

 

Fyan paused. “I'll let you in on a little secret. There's no such thing as good enough.”

 

“What?” Ardyn looked perplexed.

 

“That's right, you'll never be good enough.” Fyan followed up and Ardyn started to open his mouth, looking like he wanted to interject.

 

“I'll never be good enough either,” Fyan interrupted. “As swordsmen, we train until we die.”

 

Ardyn considered Fyan's words as they walked toward the door to the inn. The torchlight caught the dirt and sweat on Fyan's taut, muscled arms, which were bare to the shoulders. Ardyn reached over instinctively to wipe away the grime and Fyan looked up at him, jerking away with a surprised expression on his face.

 

Ardyn withdrew his hand quickly. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled and pushed his way through the inn door.

 

 

 

 

That night, Ardyn lay awake in the quiet of the inn, the fireplace burning only low embers in the corner of the room. The other three men snored lightly, each in their own bed, but Ardyn couldn't fall asleep. He thought he should have been completely worn out and turned, trying to find a good position to sleep in, despite his aching muscles.

 

Ardyn stared over into the fire, his mind racing with thoughts. He had to admit it felt good to be back on the road again. His father's death, the sickness that was spreading throughout the country, ...Fyan; it was all too much for him to take in, so he stared at the flames and blocked it all out until his eyes blurred.

 

He became cognizant of a noise in the back of his mind and his eyes re-adjusted to the flames as he perked up. What was that? He leaned up in bed and looked around the room, searching for the source. The three others were still sleeping, so he sat up, looking around him. The sound seemed almost ethereal. He wasn't sure if what he was hearing was actually a real sound in the real world, or just something he was imagining.

 

Ardyn summoned his meteorite sword and became startled. The green tint that could be seen in sunlight seemed a bit stronger now. But how was that possible in the mostly-dark room?

 

There was that noise again too. It seemed a little louder and it was no longer a faint hum, but sounded like... whispers?

 

Were people talking from the next room? Ardyn threw back the covers and slid out of bed. He lightly walked over to the door and pressed his ear against it, but the sound was the same intensity here than it was over at the bed, so he crept to the opposite side of the room and pressed his ear to the wall. Still the same, so he tried this with each corner of the room until he decided to get on the floor and listen at the floorboard. The sound never changed.

 

Ardyn put his sword down next to him as he knelt down and as he began to rise, something occurred to him. He picked up the green blade from the floor and looked at it again, studying it. Then he put his ear to the blade.

 

The sound was coming from the blade.

 

With a start, Ardyn let the sword slide out of his hand and disappear into the air. This did nothing to quiet the noises. They seemed to be even worse now and Ardyn covered his ears with his hands, pressing them tightly to his head.

 

The fireplace roared to life and out came the Infernian, contorting himself through the small opening and growing larger and larger as each body part came through until he was standing there, the size of a man.

 

“What's the matter, mortal? You look as though you've seen something.”

 

Ardyn dropped his hands from his head, embarrassed.

 

“Ah, no...” He replied, trailing off.

 

Ifrit materialized behind him and spoke in his ear, “Are you sure?”

 

“Please leave,” Ardyn begged, looking over at his sleeping friends worriedly.

 

Ifrit growled and chuckled at the same time, wrapping his arms around Ardyn's naked upper body.

 

“You know,” Ifrit began, “if you're seeing things, or even—he paused for empasis—hearing things, I can be of help.” The fire god put his lips to Ardyn's neck.

 

“Wh-what?”

 

“Don't be shy, mortal,” Ifrit crooned. “I'm here to help you.”

 

“I- I don't know what you're saying.”

 

“Yes, you do,” Ifrit snarled, suddenly angry. “I'm a god, do you think you can hide things from me?”

 

Ardyn let out a breath and looked at his friends, who seemed dead asleep. He held out his hand and the green blade appeared in it. He broke from Ifrit's grasp and turned.

 

“This,” He offered the blade to Ifrit. “Does anything about it seem off to you?”

 

Ifrit took the blade between his two claws, holding it as he would a toothpick. His tongue licked across the metal, leaving steam in its wake.

 

“This metal was taken from the meteorite, yes?”

 

Ardyn shook his head, breathless now as Ifrit handed it back.

 

“Do you know where the scourge came from?” Ifrit asked him, something glinting in the Infernian's eye. “The gods sent the meteor to destroy you mortals and wipe your wretchedness from this world. Only the god Titan objected the plan and rose from the earth to stop the hurtling ball of rock and fire. When he caught the meteorite, the rock splintered and opened and all the evil that exists poured forth, from the darkest hearts of man to the gods' own twisted misdeeds, thus causing the scourge.”

 

Ardyn took a step back, clearly not expecting that answer. “No, that can't possibly be!”

 

“Why not?” Ifrit's eyes bored into Ardyn hard. “Because you don't believe it possible that the gods, who would even kill one of their own, could harbor such evilness?”

 

“No, no, no,” Ardyn turned around, as if not wanting to listen.

 

“Your perfect gods are just like you men.”

 

“No!” Ardyn screamed, spinning. He stopped then, looking in horror as his friends lay motionless. “What did you do to them?” He asked wildly.

 

“Quiet, mortal,” Ifrit seemed annoyed now. “They are in a magical sleep that will be lifted when I have gone.”

 

Ardyn put a hand to his head, his world rocked.

 

“What is my purpose then? If the gods caused this evil, then what am I doing here?”

 

“Hmm,” Ifrit said, as if thinking. “That's a good question, but if you ask me, it's the perfect ploy.”

 

“Ploy for what?”

 

“What better way then to bring the world under their rule and to worship them wholly? Why by choosing a champion among them and sending him out to fight the menace they had created.”

 

Ardyn looked struck and defeated as Ifrit sidled up alongside him. “What can you do but use their tools against them?”

 

“Tools?”

 

“Your blade, summon it again.”

 

Ardyn obeyed the command and brought the blade back. “This is a powerful weapon, if you choose to use it. Why, it contains the power of the gods themselves.”

 

“You said so yourself, the blade is made of evil.”

 

“No, you misunderstand. You've been the gods' tool this whole time, but a tool isn't good nor bad, is it? It depends on how the wielder chooses to use the tool.”

 

Ardyn lowered his head and remained quiet for a moment.

 

“I see,” he told the Infernian and let the blade disappear into the air again.

 

“You have the power to cleanse the scourge, so use it.” Ifrit looked bored with the subject already. “I didn't just come here to answer your questions, you know.”

 

Ifrit picked up Ardyn as if he weighed nothing and deposited him on the bed, taking off the mortal's pants as he did so. Ifrit crawled on top of Ardyn, his own clothes disappearing in the process. The god put a mouth to Ardyn's neck and he moaned as the Infernian kissed it down to the collarbone and nape.

 

“I'm going to drink of you, mortal.”

 

 

 


End file.
